WEAK
by sevenweeks
Summary: She had chosen this disgusting life over the perfect one he offered.  She had chosen, but Stefan wasn't ready to let go.
1. introduction

This introduction is a little broken, but it's here to establish relationships.  
>Please review :)<p>

* * *

><p><em>And this will be the first time that I'm weak,<br>that I'll talk to you, and I can't speak.  
>It's been three whole days since I've had sleep,<br>cause I dream of his lips on your cheek.  
>And I got the point that I should leave you alone,<br>but we both know that I'm not that strong._

/_  
><em>

"Please, just fucking talk to me."  
>"I can't. I'm busy."<br>"You're with him, aren't you?"  
>"Stefan, stop it."<br>"Aren't you, though?"  
>"I have to go."<br>"Elena, I love you."  
>"Bye, Stefan."<p>

/

She was cold.  
>Her face was plastered to the damp floor and her body was twisted and broken.<br>She was lost.  
>Her nails scratched against the floor, searching through the darkness.<br>She wasn't panicked. She lacked any emotion. Her body stilled, her breathing slowed and her thoughts faded.

"Stefan?"

She was gone.

/

There was a man, tall and thin with golden locks that covered his ocean like eyes. His arms twined firmly around each other and locked around his chest, his stiff body parallel to the door only inches behind. He was the _man_. The man that made sure only the right people stepped inside and all the wrong people never saw the cloudy, dull lighted rooms behind him. The man that would stop Stefan from getting any further.

"Stefan, you know you can't be here."  
>"Is she inside?"<br>"I can't tell you that."  
>"Fuckin' Christ Tony. Is she in there?"<br>"If I tell you, will you leave before _he_ appears?"  
>"Fuck."<br>"Yes, she's inside. She's been here for a while."

Stefan winced. This place wasn't safe for her. It crept with men who had no intentions of treating her right. This place wasn't safe for her because _he_ was there. And she was too naïve to understand that.

The door opened, small hints of cheap cigars filled Stefan's nose and the artificial cries of roaring laughter echoed through his ears. The distant figure inched forward, creating a ghostly silhouette.

"Hello, little brother."  
>"Where is she?"<br>"Stefan, oh Stefan! Why don't you come on in for a drink?"  
>"Where is she, Damon?"<br>"Silly little brother, why do you bother? She picked me."

Stefan's lips parted and he sucked in the crisp air through his locked teeth. Damon was right, why did he bother? Elena had chosen. She had chosen this disgusting life over the perfect one he offered. She had chosen, but Stefan wasn't ready to let go.


	2. one

The sudden burst of light drilled into her eyes, it burned. She twisted around, squeezing and burying her eyes deep into the palms of her hands. She couldn't see anything, when her eyes finally were revealed; bright, clean flashes covered the room. There were footsteps. Seven of them. Her eyes barely adjusted to the fuzzy, multiplied form. Rough hands ran down her cheek, comforting her.

"You're freezing."

It was Damon who approached her. She could tell by the cocky tone in his sharp voice. Her dry lips ripped apart as she tied to respond. There was no hope, her throat was chalked.

"How long has it been, baby?"

Again, no reply. Her eyes met his, squinted and trying to focus on his face. He assumed it had been a few days since she had consumed. Her body, placed effortlessly on the ground, began to sweat and shake. She violently twisted and turned and groaned and screamed. She pleaded. She coughed. Damon stood, armed folded and eyebrows risen, watching her like she was some sort of circus act. He laughed.

"Do you want some more?"

Her body froze. In one instant, all the pain of this detox fled. Her head turned slowly towards him. Her wide brown eyes, glazed over and weary, begged him. Damon knew she wanted it. And Elena knew that he had it. She nodded her head, in slow strides. Up and down. He laughed again.

"Then you must promise me something, alright?"  
>She nodded again.<br>"You will never speak to my brother again."  
>She was hesitant. With a quick glance to the floor, Elena nodded. She vowed never to speak to Stefan again. And Damon would make sure she never could have a chance to break that promise.<p>

He handed her a small white box. He set it on the floor and pushed it, allowing it to land at her fingertips. Her greedy fingertips glided against the top, feeling it, seeing it though the darkness of the room. She pushed the top off, revealing a small vile of water, a metal spoon, a plastic baggie of an off white substance, a needle, a rubber band and blood-stained cloth. Her mouth turned downwards.

"Where's my lighter?"  
>Damon shuffled into his pockets. He brought out a small pack of matches laced with the words <em>Salvatore: Club and Lounge<em>. He threw them down, no caring where they landed, and watched her jump around in search for it. He laughed, swiftly turned around and exited the room.  
>"Have fun, babe."<p>

/

Stefan paced back and forth. His fingernails dug into his scalp and hair, pulling. Pulling out the thoughts in his head. The thoughts of his girl, laying around with a needle in her arm. Her calling out someone's name. Not his name, of course. She hadn't called his name for a while now.

Stefan had her on the right track. No drugs, no parties, no alcohol. She was living a calm life, working, writing, and finding herself. Then he let her go. Fuck. He fucking let her slide right out of his fingertips. It was his fault. He let her go. He was the fucking monster that did this to her. He fucking let it happen. He…_No. It's not my fault. I couldn't help it. Stefan, she doesn't want you anymore. She's fucking your brother now. It's not my fault. It's not my fault. It's not my fucking fault._

He stopped pacing. His fingers slid down his face, catching the skin of his lips and distorting his face. He found himself in the bathroom, now gripping the sink and leaning into the mirror. The once bright green eyes were dead and distant, covered with bags. His skin was pale, his lips chapped, his hair unwashed. He wasn't living anymore. He found to reason to be, and it turned around and dragged every inch of life from his body. Stefan Salvatore was dead.

/

"_I love you."  
>"I love you, too."<br>She sat in his lap, their fingers intertwined. Her face was glowing, lit up from just the presence of Stefan. She had been sober a year now, and her life was on a better track. She kissed him, her lips pressed against his, feeling them. Stefan's lips parted, breathing in, and accepting her tongue to dance around. His fingers traced her hips, running up and down. They laughed, her arms wound around his neck, bringing her lips to his jaw line. His strong arms brought her into his lap, bringing one hand to her cheek. Lifting her head away from his, he held her face in front of his, staring into the brown eyes.  
>"I want to be with you, forever."<br>"As do I, Stefan Salvatore. Forever and ever."  
>He brought his lips back to hers, more passionately this time. She brought her hands down to the hem of his shirt, tugged and pulling and tracing. She pulled off his shirt, kissing and feeling his chest. She brought her head against his heart, tracing the palm of his hands and eventually locking hers with his. She opened her mouth, letting out a cool breath.<br>"I want to be here, forever."_

/

She sat alone in the cold, dark room, lighting a match and using it as a light source. The match went out, filling the air with a burnt smell, coating her lungs with hints of smoke. Her fingers danced across the items inside of her box, stopping at the spoon and pulling it out. She felt the cold material, bringing her hands down the handle and feeling the decorative patterns. Placing the spoon in her lap, she picked up the baggie and water. Elena unscrewed the vile, pouring a small amount of water into the spoon. When she opened the baggie, she lifted it to her nose, inhaling the scent and relaxing. _It'll be in you soon._ She poured her normal amount into the water, and lifted it eye level. Struggling, she opened up the pack of matches with her free hand, dragging the tip against the lighting strip and sparked it. She brought the flame underneath the spoon, letting the flame drag itself all the way down to her fingertips. Whimpering, she dropped the match to the floor, watching it extinguish itself. Repeating the steps of lighting the match again, she pushed the match against the strip and brought it back up to the spoon. _Why the fuck didn't he bring me a lighter? Fuck him. Fuck this place. I need to get fucked up._

Elena placed the needle into the spoon, filling it. She grabbed the rubber band, and wrapped it around her arm, squeezing her veins out. _One, two, three, four…._ She counted inside her head, bringing the needle to her mouth and gripping it with her teeth. She ran her fingers against her veins, feeling her heartbeat. _Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom._ When she found the most eager vein, she dug her needle inside, pouring her substance throughout. She pulled the needle out, and pushed it away. Her fingers traced her veins again. _Ba-pause-boom. Ba-pause-boom. Ba-pause-boom._

Her heart rate slowed. She was gone again.


End file.
